


Now That's What I Call Redemption Arc

by abadmeanman



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged Up, In a way, ML Secret Santa 2017, Multi, Nonmonogamy, Spoilers, The rest of the classmates too, ooh la la, redemption arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 00:44:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13088874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abadmeanman/pseuds/abadmeanman
Summary: Chloe embarks on a very particular kind of redemption arc.





	Now That's What I Call Redemption Arc

**Author's Note:**

  * For [breeeliss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeeliss/gifts).



> This is a Miraculous Ladybug Secret Santa gift for tumblr user @breeeliss. Merry Christmas and happy holidays, breeeeeeeeee!

“Well of  _ course _ I intend to be a hero, Pollen. I was practically Ladybug’s partner even before I found you,” said Chloe, painting her nails to match the lacquered box in which she’d found her kwami’s comb. “I’ve saved her more times than Chat Noir, I’m sure.”

 

“Not… exactly,” said Pollen. “I’ve checked with… umm… I’ve checked it out, and you’re  _ definitely _ the leading cause of akumatization in Paris.” She fluffed her little yellow ruff demurely, and peeped at Chloe out of the side of her eye. “The second leading cause was ‘the bourgeois’ which may  _ also _ have been you.”

 

“Exc _ USE _ me?” said Chloe. “I am noble and angelic!” She stomped her foot, bumping her end table and overturning her nail polish. It spilled a sticky, shiny dollop of polish onto her fingers, and she looked at it with a wrinkled nose and dismay. “Ugh. And that color was  _ so  _ expensive, too.”

 

“Chloe, we need--”

 

“I’ll tell you what  _ I _ , need, honey, and it’s to get my  _ father  _ to come up here and teach you a lesson about how--”

 

“ **Need I remind you** ,” said Pollen, in bold, “That it is an  _ exceptionally bad idea _ to sic your father on people who upset you! Especially when it’s not their fault! And  _ even more especially  _ when you’d be targeting  _ the entity which makes you a superhero and who is supposed to be secret _ .”

 

Chloe paused, one finger poised above the Call button on her phone--and took a good long look at herself. In particular, her willingness to tattle on her  _ fucking kwami _ . 

 

_ In retrospect _ , she thought,  _ There may be ways in which I am less than perfect _ .

 

“Okayyyy…,” said Chloe, carefully exiting out of her phone app and locking her screen. “I think I… I think I see what you mean.” 

 

Pollen buzzed over to her, lifting her chin up with one surprisingly strong kwami mitten. “Good! That’s great, Chloe! The first step to being less of a prissy bitch.”

 

“Um, rude.”

 

“Ruder! If you aren’t a good person, the magic won’t work as well! Your powers will start doing chump idiot stuff, like Hawkmoth’s last five akumas. Look at me.” Pollen squeezed Chloe’s cheeks together, pulling their faces together. “Can you look me in the eye and say that ‘Finger Bang’ was a good villain theme? She just pointed at people and yelled BANG! Do  _ you _ want your powers to be like that?”

 

Chloe mumbled something.

 

“ _ Whaaaaat _ was that?”

 

“NO,” Chloe said, rolling her eyes, but just a little bit. “Fine! Fine. I get your point.”

 

“Perfect,” said Pollen. Flitting up and around Chloe’s head. “So let’s talk about your redemption arc.”

 

“My what now?”

 

* * *

 

Forty five minutes later, they were both out of ideas. Personalized gifts didn’t seem right--that was just using her wealth to do the work for her, in a way. Apology notes weren’t an option--no one would think she was being serious (probably because of the years of fake apologies she’d sent before). There just weren’t any redemption arcs that made  _ sense _ .

 

“Keep thinking Chloe, I know that head isn’t just good for holding up your bangs.”

 

“Maybe it  _ is _ Pollen,  _ ugh _ ,” said Chloe, throwing herself dramatically onto her bed for the twentieth time in as many minutes. “This is the  _ worst _ why can’t I just be  _ me _ but, like, everyone just accepts it?”

 

Pollen breathed in a deep (if kwami-sized) breath, closing her eyes and pressing her kwami-nubs together. She exhaled, pointing her clasped nubs at Chloe with a sigh. “Okay Chloe. I need you to take a moment and think about why that wouldn't work, at all.”

 

“ _ I know, ugh _ ,” said Chloe, resorting to italics, when a thought struck her. “Wait…”

 

Still flopped dramatically face-down onto the bed, Chloe reached behind herself, and made several grabbing, grasping motions in Pollen’s general direction.

 

“Um…” said Pollen. “Do you want… to hold me?”

 

“No! Not much, I mean. My  _ phone _ , I need my phone!” She continued her plaintive, grasping gestures.

 

“ _ Ummm _ ,” said Pollen. “You realize you can’t just ask your father how to--”

 

“Ugh,  _ duh _ ,” she replied. “I just need to ask Sabrina. I can always make her--I mean, she’s better at this kind of thing than me.”

 

_ That’s almost progress! _ , thought Pollen.  _ Every little bit counts _ . 

 

* * *

 

“Sabrinaaaaaaaa, I need to have a redemption arc, help meeeeeeeeeeee…” whined Chloe.

 

Sabrina sounded out of breath or something. “W-well, people like oral.”

 

“What?”

 

“Mmmmouth stuff, you know. With the… mouth. Nnggg…”

 

“Huh… thank you, Sabrina. Bye.” Chloe hung up the phone, and shot a glance to Pollen. “See? I thanked her. I’m being polite.”

 

* * *

 

Alix lifted her head out from between Sabrina’s legs. “Who was that?”   
  


 

“No one,” said Sabrina. “Keep going.”

 

* * *

 

“Chloe, you can’t just  _ declare _ that you’re having a redemption arc.”

 

“Oh Adrikins, you’re only saying that because you don’t know what I have  _ planned _ .”

 

Adrien rubbed the bridge of his nose and pressed his eyes tightly closed at the most recent absurdity of being friends with Chloe Bourgeois. He took a fortifying sip of wine and re-opened his peepers. He used them to give Chloe a Look.

 

“Are you telling me that you suddenly recognize the consequences of your actions, and have decided to make amends?”

 

Chloe paused, mid-bite into a gold-leaf-speckled chocolate truffle. She considered, brow furrowing delicately, before nodding. 

 

“Yes. Yes, that seems about right.”

 

“And it’s  _ not _ going to be like the Christmas gift fiasco from two years ago?”

 

“Of course not! I’m being sincere this time.”

 

Adrien poked at his creme brulee, unconvinced. “And see, your… history. Of attempted redemption arcs. It makes me want to probe a little deeper.”

 

“That’s the idea.”

 

_ Huh? _ thought Adrien. He decided to let that one fly right over his head. “So you’re going to throw a party, and make it up to everyone all at once? That’s your plan?”

 

“Absolutely! All in one fell swoop, and everyone will love me as much as I assumed they always did.”

 

“Okay one final question, Chloe,” said Adrien, squaring his shoulders and leaning forward. He gestured at Chloe’s face with a spoonful of brulee. “And this is very serious.”

 

“I’m all ears and fabulous makeup, Adri- _ chou _ ,” said Chloe, deploying the coquettish batting-of-the-eyelashes that she’d had perfected since childhood. 

 

“Since you’re throwing a party, one key event…”

 

“Go on…”

 

“Are you aware…”

 

“Aware of what?”

 

“That  _ that’s not what an  _ ARC _ is _ .”

 

* * *

 

Marinette was staring, confused, at her phone when Alya came back with the groceries. She had been for some time, ever since she had received a very peculiar email. 

 

“Babe? What’s wrong?” asked Alya. 

 

“Have you checked your phone?” said Marinette. “I’m trying to parse this email. I think it went to… maybe everyone.”

 

“No, hold on…” Alya re-settled one bag of produce on her hip, and whipped out her phone with the practiced flip of someone who’s been recording akuma attacks for years.

 

She had, indeed, received a message. Opening it up proved more of a mystery than Marinette’s reaction. It read:

 

***

 

_ You are hereby cordially invited to the  _

 

~ _ REDEMPTION ARC PARTY~  _

 

_ of  _

 

_ ~CHLOE BOURGEOIS~ _

 

_ Featuring: _

 

  * __A Curated Assortment of Lubes and Temptations__


  * _Private Suites in the Most Prestigious Hotel in Paris_


  * _Seven Chocolate Fountains_


  * _Eating Sushi Off of a Naked Person_


  * _Innuendo and Outright Propositions_



 

 

_ Please RSVP with a Recent Copy of your Negative STI Test Results.  _

 

_ To be hosted in the her Daddy’s Hotel, Le Grand Paris, on… _

 

***

 

And it continued from there.

 

“So…” 

 

“I have no idea what this could possibly mean,” said Marinette. “I’ve been sitting here for two hours.”

 

“That explains the burning smell…”

 

“My croissants!”

 

* * *

 

Marinette, Alya, and Adrien opened the door to Chloe’s presidential suite (where the majority of the party was happening) and spent about forty five seconds just blinking.

 

“I… sort of thought there might be more clothes on people,” said Adrien. 

 

“Be honest,” said Alya. “Chloe was definitely kind of… going in a direction, with that invitation.”

 

“Is that a  _ lube fountain _ ?” asked Marinette. “I don’t--I can’t--”

 

“Oh wait, Kim and Ivan are using it. For its intended purpose, I see.” Alya gave both of the fellas an appraising glance, in a below-the-belt-type area. “Damn. Looks like they need it, too.”

 

Adrien was taking it all in (and, from the moans going on in the corner, so was Nathanael), when his eyes landed on a large glass punch bowl filled not with punch, but with…

 

He picked one up.

 

“Are these… hotel room keycards?”

 

The trio looked at each other.

 

They looked around.

 

They looked at the sign above the punch bowl, which read  _ Swapping Station _ .

 

They looked back at each other.

 

“Okay we all agree, this means we’re basically swingers, right?”

 

* * *

 

There was no “basically” about it.

 

“Y’see, Adribro, the former students of College Francois-Dupont form a vast  _ sexual  _ spiderweb of boning down,” said Nino, gesturing with a brandy snifter full of condoms. “A no-shit partner swapping party is obviously the next step.”

 

Adrien ran his hands across Nino’s massage-oiled chest as he leaned back on Paris’s favorite supermodel/hero. Nino certainly had a point. 

 

“And if Chloe decided that this is the best way to make up for years of being an absolute fart in the Louvre, then hey, I’m all for it.” He leaned his head back and pressed his lips against Adrien’s. Adrien, of course, was all for that. “And when was the last time you got to slap hams with a supermajority of your former classmates?”

 

“It wasn’t all in one night, if that’s what you’re asking,” said Adrien, running his hands through Nino’s hair. 

 

“ _ Exactly _ .” Nino squeezed Adrien’s thigh. “Now, word on the street is we’re going to be pulling keys soon, so--”

 

“Word on the street?” 

 

“Or moan on the balustrade, whatever. Point is, Chloe’s going to be dispensing some, shall we say,  _ very heartfelt _ apologies. Go find your girlfriends.”

 

Adrien’s interest was, of course, piqued. If decades of jerking it so, so right to poorly translated doujinshi had taught him anything, it was that people  _ always _ wanted to bone their childhood friends. And Chloe was, somehow, one of the last people he’d known in his public school debut that he  _ hadn’t _ sexually fucked with romance. It was an appealing thought. 

 

Following Nino’s advice, he scouted the room for his girlfriends. Ah, there they were--Marinette enjoying herself on her knees in front of Mylene, and Alya giving mouth hugs to Nathanael. From the looks of things, both Mylene and Nathanael were having a hard time keeping themselves from bursting into spontaneous applause.

 

Adrien smiled, knowing full well how pleasing to the senses his two gals could be. As he looked, Alya and Marinette high fived. Nice. He was just about to walk over to collect his assorted girlfriends (at an appropriate stopping point) when his train of thought was interrupted by the tinking of a butter knife against a wine glass. 

 

_ Tink tink tink _ . Chloe had drawn herself up at the front of the room, by the punch bowl, still sporting a full set of clothing, basically. Her dress was black and slinky, but still on, which made her substantially more clad than most of her guests. Adrien was, to say the least, surprised. 

 

Wow. Was she actually… had she actually kept herself away from the fun, somewhat, and been actually trying make sure people were having a good time? 

 

“Attention everyone! I  _ do _ so hope you are enjoying my redemption arc--” A chorus of erotically distracted moans agreed that they were. “--Perfect. Now, we’re going to get to the main event.” 

 

She turned to the punch bowl full of key cards and tapped it with her butter knife. 

 

“Basic ‘70’s rules,” she began. 

 

“Yeah, we’re swingers,” mumbled Adrien, mostly to himself.

 

“Everyone said that they were down with it, and so everyone put in their room key. We’ll all pull a key, see who we get, and then retire to out luxurious and private rooms for…” She paused for effect. “An  _ intimate  _ experience.”

 

“You mean we’re gonna fuck!” said Alix and Ivan, simultaneously.

 

“Ugh,” said Chloe, rolling her eyes, but obviously not disagreeing. “Anyways. As your gracious host, I will of course be drawing first.”

 

What she had forgotten, of course, was that she had discarded her chewing gum into the aforementioned punch bowl, several minutes previously. A traditionally careless Chloe moment. So, when she drew out a room key, to start the evening’s partner-swapping off right, she pulled out not one, but  _ three _ cards stuck together with pink gum.

 

Rooms 607, 609, and 613. The rooms assigned to Marinette, Alya, and Adrien, respectively. 

 

* * *

 

Well, rules were rules. Blushing furiously (especially for someone who was literally throwing a swinger’s orgy), Chloe led her three guests of (this portion of) the evening to her bedchamber, or as they say in France, her  _ boudoir _ . She shut the door behind them with a soft  _ click _ and pressed her head against it.

 

She took a deep breath.

 

“Okay, so, first of all, I  _ definitely _ intended for… I intended this to be more of a one-on-one event.”

 

Adrien took a step towards her, hand out, and lay his fingers gently on her shoulder. “Chloe, we don’t have to do anything if you’re not--”

 

Both Adrien’s words and the murmurs of agreement coming from Marinette and Alya got cut off abruptly by Chloe spinning around.

 

“What? No! I’m  _ absolutely _ into this. Would I lie?” She looked around, and didn’t see as much agreement as she’d hoped. “Okay well, would I lie about  _ this _ ?” Shrugs, this time. “Exactly.  _ That _ isn’t the problem. There’s not even a problem, really! Everything’s perfect, of course!” she wrapped her arms around herself, very intentionally not making eye contact with anyone. “I just didn’t think I’d accidentally pull--” she made some floppy-handed gestures at the three of them, blushing worse. “--such a… such a bunch of…”

 

“This is hard for you, isn’t it,” said Marinette, smirking a little. 

 

“Quit it! Shh! I’m trying to be sincere!” Chloe huffed. “I didn’t think I’d accidentally have all three of the people I was _most excited_ about… things with…  at the _same time_ _THERE ARE YOU HAPPY_.” With her last four words she launched herself at Marinette, pressing her very red lips to Marinette’s considerably more startled pink ones. “Shut up and unzip me I’m trying to have a redemption arc.” 

 

Four heartbeats simultaneously quickened as Marinette complied. 

 

Everyone knew that Chloe put a great deal of effort into her appearance. Spa days, massages, makeup, exercise, and what-have-you. However, considerably fewer people knew that she prided herself on her appearance all the way down the dresser drawers. 

 

As Chloe’s gown puddled around her feet, everyone else took in a sharp breath. They all knew that Chloe was hot, but in a bitchy rich white person way that really cut the appeal significantly. However, when she was being less of a pill, and not wearing a dress anymore, and being more of a blushing mess with a heart rate somewhere in the five hundreds, she managed to be a  _ lot _ more delectable. 

 

For her part, Marinette found herself holding an armful of blonde (a different one than she was used to), and being prodded by a brace of tiddies (a different pair than she was used to), all very suddenly. And for all of its suddenness, it was all the more pleasant--something her past self was giving her the stink eye about, somewhere in the back of her mind. To her left, Alya let out a soft whistle, and to her right, Adrien gave a quiet gasp as Marinette moved to hold Chloe at arm’s length--not to keep distance between them, so much as to get a full view of her getup.

 

A younger, more naive Chloe, a Chloe of yesteryear, might have tried to go with white lingerie, to develop a sort of angelic aura. Looking back at herself, she was pretty sure she would have gone full extra and added fluffy white wings and a halo, too. But  _ today’s _ Chloe was basically throwing a party to fuck her bad behavior away, so she’d gone with black and gold. 

 

Chloe’s unmentionables matched, of course. Her bra, panties, and garter belt were all thin, strappy black things held together by some of the sheerest black lace Marinette had ever seen. Stitched throughout were little patterns and swirls and grapevines in gold thread, hugging a scandalously small amount of Chloe’s curves, and leaving less to the imagination than if she hadn’t been wearing anything at all. 

 

As Marinette and Adrien and Alya looked at Chloe, she felt their gazes land on her skin with a pressure that warmed her skin in passing, and left her tingly and pulse-pounding hard of breath. She felt that insistent visual pressure make its way to her chest, and flushed down to her demi-denuded decolletage when she noticed how  _ perky _ she’d gotten. 

 

And of course, her essentially-irrelevant lingerie did nothing to conceal her pink pointy bits from Marinette’s gaze. The carefully constructed  _ hint _ of nipple was now bordering on full-fledged nipple  _ clue _ territory. Perhaps even  _ treasure map _ . 

 

This was  _ so  _ much hotter than she thought it would be. 

 

“Are you… giggling?” asked Alya. 

 

“No,” said Chloe, lying. “Shut up and get naked.” Putting words to action, she was already groping around the back of Marinette’s dress for a zipper, and around Adrien’s belt trying to undo it, and was cursing the fact that she didn’t have a third hand to go to work on Alya.

 

“Whoa whoa whoa whoa,” said everyone besides Chloe.

 

“Don’t get me wrong, Chlo, I’m interested, but we should probably maybe… talk a little first?” said Adrien, gently removing Chloe’s hands from his junk. She was always extra handsy with him. “About what we want out of this and if everything is okay?”

 

“Yeah, I mean we can definitely do this but you don’t  _ need _ to. I don’t want you feeling like you  _ have _ to play with us--or anyone--just because you felt like announcing a redemption arc.” Marinette took care removing Chloe’s hand from her dress, and gave it a kiss on the knuckles before returning it.

 

Alya bent down to Chloe’s dress and hoisted it back up to Chloe’s tit-level, earning a feeble “hey!” from Chloe. “And as a general rule, you want to negotiate with people  _ before _ you lose clothing. “Especially since we’re going first. Apparently, all three of us.”

 

“Ugh.  _ Fine _ ,” said Chloe. “I  _ suppose _ I’ll be a responsible sexual partner.” She huffed over to the chaise longue, plopping onto it with a light thump and a squeal. She adjusted her position, and her partially-discarded-and-now-replaced-dress, gingerly.

 

“Um, that’s the idea, yeah. And… what was with that squeal?” asked Adrien. 

 

“Nothing. None of your business. At least not yet.” Chloe crossed her legs with a muffled  _ hhmmph _ . “So. I’m up for anything and everything. I’ve got a closet full of stuff we can use.”

 

She gestured to the closet, and Alya, ever-curious, opened it up to reveal a veritable Versailles of erotic gadgetry. Between Chloe’s unbelievably fancy lingerie, and the stockpile of ludicrously varied fuck-sundries, the contents of the room probably outpriced Marinette’s entire yearly income. Damn. 

 

“Damn, girl,” said Alya. “Did you stock every hotel room with this smorgasbord of sex toys?”

 

“Well, of course. Why else be rich?” said Chloe. And she had a point.

 

“But to the talking,” said Marinette, who was eyeing what appeared to be a solid gold strap-on. “Are you sure you really want to do this with us? With… maybe everyone?”

 

“Oh Marinette, you beautiful, simple girl. This idea just uncorked the fabulous magnum of champagne that is my libido.” Chloe clucked her tongue. “The real question is whether I’ll be able to get to everyone  _ tonight _ or not.”

 

* * *

 

One short pre-fucking conversation later:

 

“I think that about covers it,” said Marinette. “We all know what we’re comfortable with, and we’re all consenting. Put your hands in.”

 

“I can’t believe you do this every time before you have sex,” said Chloe, reluctantly putting her hand in the middle of the circle with Alya, Adrien, and Marinette’s. “Nerds.”

 

“It’s fun!” said Adrien. “Okay on three. “One, two, three--”

 

“ _ Enthusiastic informed consent _ !” they all said, and blasted their hands into the air like they’d just concluded some sort of American football huddle discussion. 

 

“Now Chloe… you yelped a bit when you sat down on the chaise… would you like to tell me why?”

 

“Well,  _ Adrien _ , I think you might just have to take off my dress and see for yourself.” She gave her three partners for (this part of) the night one of her wickedest smiles, and given that we’re talking about Chloe Fucking Bourgeois here, that’s a very wicked smile indeed. 

 

“Let’s get started.”


End file.
